


A Little Too Much Information

by DixieDale



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 10:17:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17465633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Schultz keeps coming up against knowledge, information that he really would prefer not to know.  While he tried very hard to convince himself that it was just 'so eine peinliche', he knew better.  Oh, it was that, as well, of course; but it was also, most of it anyway, extremely dangerous.  He tried to get the men in Barracks 2 to help him come up with the English equivalent, but those words 'just a trifle awkward', that didn't help his deep down fear that it was the wrong term to begin with.  All in all, perhaps his philosophy of "I know nothing!  I see nothing!  I hear nothing!" really IS the safest all around.  Perhaps for everybody.





	A Little Too Much Information

There was probably no English equivalent to the phrase that first came to the mind of Sergeant Hans Schultz- so eine peinliche. He had tried to explain the concept to the men in Barracks 2 to see if THEY knew the right words, since they were such smart (mischievious, yes, but still very smart!) boys, but the phrase they came up with - 'just a trifle awkward, old chap!' - hadn't seemed to quite mean the same thing. Newkirk had even grinned as he'd intoned that so carefully, haughty expression belying that smirk, the voice and accent much different than his usual. 

But then again, the more Schultz thought about it, he was becoming increasingly sure that his OWN phrase didn't suit the situations he kept running up against. No, he was now sure of it. These things were not 'just a trifle awkward', so eine peinliche. They were something quite different. Something disturbing, highly disturbing, but in perhaps different ways. Resolutely he brought his unruly mind back into line. 

"That is nonsense! So eine peinliche, 'just a trifle awkward', that's all it is, any of it!" Though he knew he would be hesitant to discuss any of it, just in case others had a differing viewpoint. Frankly, he did not want to hear a differing viewpoint, especially about the latest events.

 

Last week he'd gone to the Kommandant's quarters after hours to deliver the bottle of schnapps the man had demanded of him earlier. It was obvious once he arrived that the last thing Klink needed was another bottle of schnapps. Perhaps the last thing Klink had needed was his PREVIOUS bottle of schnapps!

His timid rap at the door got only a blurred something or other that MAY have been 'come in', but could easily have meant a few other things as well, including a word the Kommandant really shouldn't be using to a subordinate.

He'd entered, to find Klink sitting in his chair, tears rolling down his cheek, staring at a book lying open on the floor halfway across the room. 

"Bring it to me, Schultz. Do not lose the page; I have to see if it still says the same thing." 

Well, it was unlikely the book being tossed across the room, which seemed to be what had happened, would have caused the words to change, but Schultz went over and with a groan, bent over with considerable difficulty to pick up the book. A book of sayings and quotes. It made Schultz very uncomfortable to see that it was not one of the approved books, which meant it was one of the not-approved books, which means the Kommandant could be in big trouble for even having it. Though it might be interesting to glance through it sometime, when the Kommandant was not around and there was no one who would know.

Klink groaned as he glanced at the open page, then waved it away.

"Read it to me, Schultz, that page."

"But it is quite long, Kommandant," Schultz protested.

The sergeant was dumbfounded when the tears started again.

"Yes, very long, I know. As long as the distance between heaven and hell. As long as the distance between right and wrong, honor and dishonor. Read it, Schultz. My eyes will no longer let me see the words. Please . . ."

And he had read the words, the quotes, the sayings, becoming more and more uncomfortable with each that was spilled into the dim shadows that filled the room.

There was only one last group of words on the page, and he hoped sincerely the Kommandant would not ask him to continue reading. One last thing.

"Hell is the highest reward the devil can offer you for becoming his servant."

"Go on," and the words came from a throat tight and hoarse.

"But that is all, Herr Kommandant. It is finished," Schultz had protested.

And to his shock and total discomfort, the Kommandant had broken down completely. Schultz would have preferred not to have understood the words being uttered with such despair; he was not that lucky.

"Yes, it is, isn't it. It is finished - my honor, my integrity, my career, all that I valued. The Englander, Newkirk - his eyes. Schultz, I will never forget his eyes, the rage, the hatred. And HIM, the devil, the Dark Angel, the smile of contentment on Hogan's face, that sly smile urging me to enjoy what we had just done to that boy, forced him to do, promising there would be more, that the boy would still come to us in order to protect the others. He bragged about controlling him. As he now controls me." Klink's head was now in his hands, and then the retching came, and Schultz moved quickly to get his commanding officer to the basin. 

Later, putting the silent, withdrawn man to bed, drawing the covers up to perhaps ease the shivering of that thin body, Schultz had considered returning to his own quarters, but looking at the still figure of the man, not sleeping, but staring blankly into the night, he knew it would be best if he stayed. Resignedly looking at a night of dozing, at best, he thought about picking up that book and reading for awhile. 

Then he felt his own stomach finally react to all he had heard, all he had guessed, and thought better of it. Dealing with all that was almost more than he could bear. What was going to be even harder? Facing the man the next morning, with all that knowledge captured inside. No, facing each of them - Klink, Hogan, and Newkirk, seeing the masks they would be wearing, knowing what lay beneath those masks.

Deciding the book was perhaps an easier thing to contemplate than what the morrow would bring, he picked up the book, carefully selecting what he would read, he made his way through the night, trying to find some solace in those pages. 'Charity', 'Compassion', 'Delight', 'Fairness', 'Honor', 'Joy', 'Justice', 'Love', 'Peace'. Perhaps there would be enough of those words to drown out those other hateful and frightening ones. He prayed it would be so.

***  
Then there had been that surprise inspection in Barracks 6. Schultz and two other soldiers had been assigned that duty, and it was only a matter of luck that it had been Schultz who had spotted that little glimmer tucked into the corner of one of the occupied bunks. Something, some hint of intuition kept him from declaring his find, of even sharing it with the others or presenting it to the Kommandant.

Later, when he was alone, he took it out and stared at it, squinting to make out the details. He swallowed heavily, barely daring to breathe the word that described what he had found - 'juden'. He had heard enough to know this was not a good thing for him to have found, not good that he knew which bunk it had been hidden in. His duty was clear, at least his duty as a German soldier.

Still, it was a pleasant afternoon, and he had an hour free, and there was no one to say he could not spend that hour taking a walk, clearing his mind. There were those who had suggested he might be better off with losing a few pounds; surely a walk would be beneficial. He found himself beside that pool that Langenscheidt included in some of his stories, found himself looking into that deep water, staring at his reflection.

It was only the air, well, and perhaps the forest itself, who heard the weary soldier proclaim, "I have heard it is lucky to toss a coin into a pool and make a wish. Perhaps I should try it," reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of coins. Carefully selecting one, or at least something that looked like a coin, he tossed it to the center of the pool, watched as it disappeared without a trace.

"I would wish for peace, but I think that is more than even a magic pool can achieve. Instead, I wish for a pass to see my Gretchen, and that she will wear that embroidered blouse and her green skirt and that she is in a very good mood. Yes, that is perhaps more easily done. Well, perhaps the very good mood is also too much to ask, but pehaps the blouse and skirt??" There was a faint rustling of the leaves on the trees, almost sounding like a fond chuckle. It was easy to see how the place gave Langenscheidt such ideas for his stories!

His walk back to camp was just a trifle more carefree, and his mood even more so when he was greeted by the news that Kommandant Klink had unexpectedly granted his several weeks old request for a two day pass to go home. And yes, his Gretchen DID wear that blouse, AND the skirt, and she was in the best mood he had seen her since their honeymoon!

He would have liked to somehow let that soldier know where the small object had disappeared to, to alleviate some worry, but there was no way he could think of to do that. Well, he had done the best he could; after all, that was knowledge he had had no desire to obtain in the first place, was more than happy to let drift out of his mind. Much better to think on Gretchen and that embroidered blouse.

***  
This week, another new thing to bring uncomfortable thoughts to his aching head. Schultz wasn't sure why he noticed; he worked so very hard at not being observant, at seeing nothing, knowing nothing. And it was just two men talking, one a guard, one a prisoner. Nothing special. 

Except that it was special. A special quiet tenderness in Karl Langenscheidt's face, a special eager shyness to Olsen's flicker of a smile. Nothing anyone else would have noticed, paid any attention to it.

Schultz would have thought nothing of it himself, except he had a daughter; well, he had more than one, though he had not spent as much time with them as he would have liked. The oldest one, though, he had been lucky enough to have been at home to see her turn from a girl to a young woman. And he remembered seeing just such looks before, in his daughter's eyes, in her face, and in the eyes and face of the young man she had given her heart to, who had given his in return. 

This was something he should not have seen, wished he had not seen and even more that he had not understood. What was he to do with this new knowledge? {"Nothing! I see nothing, I hear nothing, I know nothing!!"}.

"Just a trifle awkward. Yes, it is nothing more, and easily something I can ignore!" There were those who overheard that little self-lecture, perhaps wondered just a bit, but truly, with Schultz, sometimes it was better if YOU knew nothing as well.


End file.
